Highschool Howling
by Skye Larson
Summary: Story told from different point of views by two different wolf packs in the same town. The packs start to clash when they discover eachother, mixing and mingling to either kill eachother or form one new pack. Cheesy title, I know.
1. Chapter

**Satier Madsen**

"Ready?" David Corwin grinned. He was always grinning. His steel gray eyes seemed to always be laughing at a joke only he understood, but right now I was in on it. We had a bottle of non-toxic ink and were in the teacher's lounge of Cardozo high school. Now, if only we could find Principal Picadildo's - I mean Picadillo's - "special smoothie." I know, I know...we should be more mature...this is, after all, our senior year, with graduation just over the horizon...for a moment I think I hear angels singing...then David hauked up a lung. "You're sick, dude." He ignored me, of course, and took a bottle of soda out of the teachers refrigerator and spit a ridiculous amount of mucus into it.

"Ah, sick but creative, Satier, m'boy!" I couldn't help but grin. David has that affect on people. He has an answer for everything, never knows when to shut his mouth, and always looks like he just rolled out of bed. This was his second time through twelfth grade. I don't think he wants to graduate- he likes it here in the concrete prison run by apes (our school), or so he claims. I still have my suspicions -and hopes- that he's not serious. If you're nineteen years old and content to be in this- okay, it's his choice. Let's focus on the task at hand.

"Where the hell does he put that crap?" The crap, in question, is this brown-black-gray chunky liquid that our principal actually swallows. It's supposedly a health shake, but I have my doubts.

"Well if it _looks_ like it came from the sewers, and it _smells _like it came from the sewers, maybe it's sh-"

"Here we go!" I plucked it off the bottom shelf and set it on one of the tables behind me, pulling the ink out of my jeans pocket. David unscrewed the thermos and took a sniff, even though we both know a jock strap is roses compared to this stuff. He gagged and held the cup up accordingly, while i uncapped the ink and started pouring it into the witches brew. Then there was a click, and we both ducked under the table as someone slipped into the room.

"Yes, a teacher would never notice _you _two underneath the table. I swear, that's the most brilliant place you could be- aside from hiding behind the door, of course."

I let out a long breath and heard David echo it. I poked my head up and was relieved to see Aaron Thomas, and not a detention-slip-toting troll. Aaron's just shy of six feet, a full head shorter than me and about half a head shorter than David. He has unruly blonde hair that he hacks off when it shows any signs of curls, which it always does. He's kind of lanky but not awkward, lean with sharp green eyes that never miss a beat. Aaron's sneakier than David and I by a mile and some change; He could walk into a bank and walk right back out with half a million and no one would know the difference. That's what his specialty is. The invisibility and cunning he seemed to employ on a whim, using it to escape his problems scot free. So it wasn't too much of a surprise when he strode over and took the bottle from my hands, using a black sharpie he pulled out of God-knows-where to scribble something on the label. He handed the bottle back to me as I stood, but David snatched it and squinted at the writing.

"Awesome."

He sounded impressed, so I being the patient adult that I am, grabbed the ink. "Gimme." Across the faintly listed ingredients was the name, "Sidowski." I smiled and added a few more drops to the smoothie then went to a find a not so obvious hiding spot for the bottle. I listened to the swishing of the toxic mixture as Aaron covered it and shook it up before placing it back in the fridge while I placed the ink on a shelf, near one of Mr. Sidowski's personal text books. First rule of screwing with teachers: Don't get caught. Second: Get rid of the evidence. So we were bending the second rule. Who cares? Someone has to take the blame, and honestly, Sidowski can take care of it. Just like he took care of my report card last year. Yeah, right.

Now we had to slip out of the room unnoticed. The only time this was simple was during or right before a bell: A tidal wave of teenagers swept you up so hard and so fast that even if you wanted to wait around and dawdle, you couldn't. So, Aaron pulled out a cell phone and punched in a number. We were quiet as we waited for him to set the wheels in motion. A few seconds later he nodded, to himself more than us, and said, "Now." He hung up the phone then fiddled with it a few more seconds. When he looked up, he mumbled softly, "Five...four...three...two...okay, let's go." He turned on his heel and stuck his head out of the door, bobbing it back and forth a few times before the three of us slipped out. Ah, sweet victory.

Aaron handed the phone to David, and his dark head bounced ahead of us as we followed him to the main office. Aaron and I walked over to the bulletin, reading new announcements and notices while David explained how he found a fellow peer's cell phone in the library, and as a good samaritan, was turning it in immediately.

Once that was done, we made a right and rounded the corner at the end of the hall. At the end was the principal's office. A little before that was the main entrance, attendance office, and nurse's headquarters. I could hear Holly Fuller's voice before we even reached the nurse. "I know I have it somewhere, just let me look in my bag...I swear, I had it right here..." I could practically visualize her standing there, emptying her whole bag on Nurse Caplan's desk and sighing exasperatedly. Blowing a loose strand of wavy red hair out of her face, struggling to find a note that would excuse her from gym that day.

As if on cue, Mason Fuller, her older brother, came strolling down the hall. While Holly was a petite red head, Mason was big and broad, well over six feet with short white-blonde hair and an easy going disposition. The one feature they shared was two sets of amazing blue-green eyes, the color changing with their emotions and clothing. He rapped his knuckles on Caplan's door and walked in, holding a piece of paper in his left hand. "You left this at home, Holly."

Brother and sister laughed off Holly's forgetfulness, apologized for wasting Caplan's time and excused themselves after all the pleasantries. When they stepped into the hallway, we were waiting for them.

When you're close friends like us, you're like family. You know eachother's habits. So it came as no surprise when Holly began chattering animatedly and we all grunted and nodded our heads every few moments, not listening. She'd tell us again later anyway. Right now she just needed to get things off her chest. Plus, it was way too early to bother trying to listen. At a crossroads in the hallway, we all stopped for a moment. It was a silent agreement as we all made a right towards the library, in case anyone in the office checked to see if we really had been in there this morning. We don't exactly have the best reputation in this school, but then who does?

"Satier!" She does. Shit. "Satier!" I turned just in time to see a blur of brown-blonde hair before being tackled onto the tiled floor. Beaming down at me was my girlfriend, though God help me figure out what I was thinking when I asked her out. She gave me an eskimo kiss, the dimples in her cheeks prominent as she leaned her elbows on my chest. "Uhm..."

"I called you yesterday." She pouted. "You never called me back. You were _supposed _to call me Sati," I _hate _being called "Sati." It's girly, and well...it's just girly. Need I say more?

"Don't call me that."

"You know you love it."

"No. You love it." I got up and let her tumble off me and onto her ass. I always told her I didn't like it-which proves how much she listens to me. I stood and brushed off my jeans, only helping her up because I was raised better than that.

When my parents were still around, anyway. Now I live on my own, but I get lonely so I usually crash at one of the gang's or Derek's. Derek is a senior, and our Alpha. I should probably explain what that means. It means he's the glue that keeps everyone together, juggling a yard maintenance company left to him by his dead father and school, while taking care of our ungrateful asses. It's also the position of leader in the structural hierarchy of wolves. So why does a group of teenagers call one of their own Alpha? Because we are wolves. Animals; Hunters with all the weapons of mother nature, and the intelligence of a human. A deadly combination. We shift. We shed our human skins for the pelt of a wolf. To run on four legs instead of two, our paws pounding a tattoo into the earth as we give chase and sing songs of life to the stars. We are wolf, and we are human. We are hunters and invulnerable. We have apposable thumbs. It's sweet. Back to the now.

She looked at me uncertainly, her eyes crinkling at the corners, even as she plastered on a hesitant smile. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, huh? What's wrong, baby?"

I sighed. I was tired. It was too early for this. She'd been flirting shamelessly with half the basketball team anyway. God knows how many she'd been sleeping with. "We're wrong. You're wrong. There's a rollercoaster about to careen off the tracks in my head because of you. We're done. Over. Does that spell it out for you?"

Her eyes teared up, and I barely heard her whisper, "Why are you being like this?"

My head was starting to hurt. Not a good sign. This was taking too long. "This is who I am, Alissa. I'm not a goody two shoes like you. I'm not your boyfriend anymore. You just aren't right for me. Go shake your pom poms for someone else, okay? I've lost interest."

She sniffled and started blubbering. Jesus Christ. Why me? I just turned and walked away, seeing everyone a few feet ahead of me. I smiled tiredly, a thanks for the privacy. Mason put his arm over my shoulders as we walked to the library, letting me know we're buddies and he's there for me. Damn. I really do love these guys.


	2. Chapter 2

**Michelle Michaels**

"Alissa seems really out of it today. Sasha told me she was crying in the bathroom today 'cause her boyfriend dumped her." I shaded my eyes and squinted up at my best friend, Trish Teverro. Her long, wavy hair was pulled back into a ponytail that ran down to her waist. I could just make out her profile with the sun blinding me as I absorbed her words.

"Who was her boyfriend?"

"Don't know. But I put a note in Matt Larson's locker asking him to find out."

Matt is a mute, and knows pretty much everything going on in our school. What he doesn't know off the top of his head he can find out in record time. A reliable source if there ever was one. At that moment, Matt appeared at our table with a note. He handed it to Trish and she unfolded it, cocking an eyebrow as she read the name.

"Madsen?" She looked up for a response, and Matt answered by nodding.

"Thanks, Matteo." He nodded once again before turning on his heel and walking away. Sometimes I felt sorry that he couldn't talk, but he seemed to get by just fine.

Turning back to Trish, I quirked an eyebrow. "The question is, who is Madsen?"

She wiggled her eyebrows and I laughed. When we sobered up, I did wonder though. I wanted to know what sort of boy made a bubbly person like Alissa Toddwell cry her eyes out, and I wanted to know what sort of boy did it on purpose and left her. Well, we weren't going to figure it out by sitting here. I grabbed the closest kid to me. "Do you know who Madsen is?"

He furrowed his brow, looked at me like I was crazy. When he saw I wasn't going anywhere he sighed, like it was an effort to answer me. "I think he's one of those guys." He pointed at a group a few tables away, flicking his hand around.

"Which one is he?"

"How should I know? I just know one of those guys and that he hangs out with a Madsen."

"Which one do you know?"

"Mason."

I did my best not to sound too frustrated. Really. "And which one is Mason?"

He smirked. "The one that's twice as big as everyone around him."

I looked back to the group. Sure enough, one of the guys was huge. Like body builder huge. "Oh. Thanks...'Bye."

I sat back next to Trish, dismissing the guy I'd questioned. "Apparently, one of the guys over there hangs out with our dear Mr. Madsen."

She nodded. I continued. "He's the really big guy with the-white? Yes-hair."

"His hair looks more blonde, but like a really light blonde."

"Focus. I don't care what color his hair is. We need to find Madsen."

"He's pretty cute." Trish could be easily side tracked sometimes. Despite this, I took a second look at Mason. He was good looking. I couldn't really tell what color his eyes were. Blue? Green? Oh well. I didn't really care. He didn't look like my type, anyway.

"Good. So you should be able to jiggalo your way into finding out who Madsen is."

"Jiggalo?"

"Shhh..." I placed a finger on my lips before we both started giggling. A few moments later we calmed down, simultaneously standing and walking over to the small group around Mason.

When we were close enough, I still couldn't tell what color his eyes were. Blue one minute, then emerald and back to blue again the next. We stopped at the edge of the group, waiting for someone to notice us. When they did see us, everyone got quiet. They turned and looked at us. It was very quiet. Suddenly I felt like an intruder. Like I had no right to walk in on their group, and I should go. I stood my ground and turned towards the body builder, who I'm pretty sure plays on the soccer team.

"Are you Mason?"

"Yeah." I stood looking at him. He cocked his head to the side. His voice sounded very level and calm, like he never yelled. It was deep, but soft. Soothing. I realized I was just looking at him.

"Uh...Can I talk to you for a second? Please?"

He turned towards me, and I was struck by how tall he is and how short I am. Nice. He looked down expectantly at me, and I squirmed under the scrutiny.

"I meant like...privately?" He blinked. "If that's okay." I added hurriedly, looking at the people around him.

He stepped off to the side, a good few feet away. I followed gratefully, leaving Trish to the mercy of his friends. I stopped infront of him and looked way up into his face. I inhaled, my nostrils flaring slightly. I smelt...wolf. Wolf? He's wolf? I hadn't even known there were other wolves in the area. Was he a stray? Did he have a pack? I realized I was just standing there looking at him. "So. Do you er...have a friend?"

The corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. "Yeah, I've got a friend. A few, actually."

I feel...so...lame.

"Well, yea. Duh. I mean, everyone's got friends. Of course you have some. Why wouldn't you?"

He just looked at me. This was going great. Really great. It was so great, it was almost bad.

I cleared my throat. "So...do you have a friend named Madsen?"

"Of course he does!" I jumped three feet in the air as someone yelled in my ear. Turning, I saw a scruffy looking guy in baggy jeans and a gray sweatshirt. He looked like he rolled out of bed and had just enough time to pull on clothes before bolting to school. I scented the air. He was wolf, too. He stuck his hand in my face. Nice.

"David Corwin. And you are...?"

I grabbed his hand feebly. "Uh...Michelle. Michelle Michaels."

"Well, Uh Michelle Michaels, what do you need from Mason's friend Madsen?"

"I was just uh...looking for him."

"Well you can uh, find him at a party tonight." He smiled as he mocked me, and before I got angry, it occurred to me that this was just how he acted. I could deal with a little teasing.

"Really?" I flicked my hair back over my shoulder. I willed him to give me a number or address to the party. I didn't have all day.

"Yeah. Here." He took my hand and pulled a pen out of his sleeve. No joke. He proceeded to write something on my palm. When I got my hand back, I looked down and read the address. When I looked up, both guys were gone. They hadn't even just left me alone, because they weren't back with their friends either. Classy.

I walked back to rescue Trish, and stopped at the edge of the group. She was glaring down at this short red head, and I stepped up beside her, immediately defensive. Trish is five foot seven inches, tall and lithe with long legs. The girl, whose eyes were narrowed viciously at my best friend, was a good few inches shorter and very curvy. Trish has the height leverage, but this girl looked tough. She stepped closer to us and turned those eyes on me. They were beautiful. A true blue-green color.

"You keep your hands off my brother, understand?"

I blinked. Me? And who is her brother? I looked into those eyes, and it dawned on me. Her brother was Mason. Was she wolf, too? I tried to smell her, but her scent was lost with all the other people walking around the grounds. I wasn't as close to her as I was her brother. They had the same eyes. Her gaze was darkening to emerald though, probably because of her anger, but I could still find traces of blue.

"I wasn't after your brother."

"You looked pretty cozy over there, talking privately." She emphasized the last word, wrinkling her nose at me. Jesus.

"I was asking him about another guy."

She looked at me warily and backed up a little bit. Progress. "Who?"

"Erm..."

Trish snapped at her. "Why is that any of your business?" Oh, brother.

"I wasn't talking to you, so step off," She turned back to me and seemed to visibly relax. "Who were you asking about? I might know him."

"Madsen?"

Her eyebrows went up. "Madsen?"

"Madsen." I nodded, shifting on my feet. She smiled and it lit up her whole face. Now she really looked like Mason. At first glance they didn't look that similar except for their eyes, but looking at her, I saw they shared the same smile as well. She turned on her heel and walked away then, and I blinked rapidly. Was it a family thing that they didn't know how to say 'good-bye'? No, because that guy David hadn't said 'bye either. Ugh. How rude.


	3. Chapter 3

**Taylor Jameson**

I sat in the back of the science lab, next to my partner, Jesse Sawyer. I was doodling a cartoon of him, but had to keep starting over because he couldn't sit still.

"Jesus. Why so jittery, Sawyer?"

"I'm _always _this jittery."

"Yeah, true. Make an exception. Sit still so I can finish."

He stopped squirming and sat still. For two minutes, anyway. I sighed in frustration but then he turned and smiled at me, and I had to laugh. He always makes me laugh. We've been really good friends since first grade, so he should be able to do that by now. He pushed his hair back, but it just fell straight down once more. His hair is that golden color that isn't quite blonde or brown and falls down to his mouth. He's the only person I know that has gold eyes. They aren't shiny like jewelery. They're a shade between honey-gold and old gold.

A ruler rapped hard across our desk and we both jumped simultaneously. "Would either of you be so kind as to tell me the answer?"

"What was the question?" Jesse kicked me under the desk and i fought not to reach down and rub it. That hurt.

"I would like to ask you two lovebirds to pay attention _before _I have to seperate you."

Lovebirds? Jesse and I both scowled at the suggestion. We might be close and seem like we're interested in eachother, but we're just friends. You can never romantically look at the guy you know wet himself because he didn't have his Mr. Snuggews with him at a sleepover. Nevertheless, people did turn and make cat calls, which the teacher ignored. The loudest person was Owen Weiller. Popular, jock, and idiotic. When the teacher walked away I crumbled up a piece of paper and threw the ball at Owen's head. It bounced off and Jesse high fived me as we both did a mini-victory dance before Mr.Gershom turned to face the class.

Taking our seats once again, I glanced over at Owen. He was smirking at me and mouthed one word before the bell rang: 'Later'. I shivered and collected my books. Jesse had already left to go to our last period class. His was music, and he wouldn't be late to that if he was missing a leg. I had art.

I shoved my books into my backpack with a will. That is, until I dropped them. Everywhere. As in pencils went rolling across the floor, books skidded, papers flew. I'm not a klutz, I swear. Sighing, I dropped to my knees, pulling books into a pile and gathering up papers. Everything was neatly tucked away in its proper place about four minutes after the late bell rang. However, when i started looking for my baseball cap, I couldn't find it.

"_Twilight_?"

I closed my eyes and wished the owner of that voice would just walk away. Leave my book, and walk away. I willed it to happen. But when I turned, he was still there. "Yeah, _Twilight._ Do you have a problem with that?"

"I've read it. It's a good book."

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why would _you _read _Twilight?"_

"Why not?"

"It's kind of...you know...a chick book."

"So, you like chick books?" He grinned, and I found myself smiling back.

"Why are you being nice?"

"Because I have your hat."

Sure enough, he did. My Superman hat was snugly pulled over his short, rusty colored hair. The bastard. I snatched at my cap, but there were two problems: He was too tall, and I was too short. I improvised. Jumping onto him, i wrapped my legs around his waist and my arm around his neck, holding on as i grabbed the hat and pulled it onto my own head.

I smirked at him, and he smiled. Reflectively I realized his arms were around me, and I was pressed against his chest. With this realization came a new one. One that was not so welcome. I tried to sniff him without letting it show, which wasn't difficult considering how close we were. He was a werewolf. He was like me. I could smell it on him. At the same moment, he realized it, too. My smile vanished as he leaned his face toward mine, his breath fanning my cheek. I pulled back and looked at him, my heart in my throat. Sliding off him, I tried to pull away from his arms but he held me closer and leaned down once more. His face was inches from mine, and he whispered,

"Why are you running away?"

"I need to get to class."

"You're already late. What's the rush?"

"The rush? The rush! The rush is that I shouldn't be here, and you shouldn't be holding onto me even if you smell really good and it feels really nice and i think you're gonna kiss me and the truth is I really don't understand how this is happening because five minutes ago we were trying to kill eachother and now-" He put his hand over my mouth, stopping my incessant babbling and smiling.

"I smell good?" I blushed and he held me tighter. "You were right about one thing. This _does _feel really good." If I could turn any redder, my head would explode. I kept my mouth shut, even after he took his hand away. He leaned down for what must have been the millionth time, and he pressed his mouth against mine. My cheeks burned as his lips moved over me, mine not responding. He pulled away slightly and I thought he'd stop, but he shoved me in the back with a hand and I gasped as I flew into him, my voice captured in his mouth as he kissed me. I slid my arms around his neck and kissed him back, caught up in his lips and letting everything else slip away. We both pulled away at the same time, and I looked into his steel gray eyes, thinking: _Who are you? Why didn't I see you before?_

I backed away, shaking my head. This wasn't real. This wasn't right. This wasn't the same Owen Weiller he was when we were around other people. This was a game, and I didn't want to play. Werewolves didn't just kiss at our age; They wanted all or nothing. And if it was Owen Weiller, i was giving nothing. I grabbed my bag and ran out of the room, looking back to see him fuming behind me. I kept moving after that, making it to the door of the art room as the bell rang. I stomped my foot and swore, changing direction and going to my locker. I shoved my books in, yanking the ones I needed out with more force than I needed to. Slamming the door closed, I charged off to meet everyone before strong arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me back against a hard chest.

"Taylor." I relaxed at the sound of the voice behind me.

"Derek. What's up?"

"Walk with me." He let me go and took my hand, walking next to me and looking at the top of my head. Derek was always easy to talk to. He came off as apathetic and cold a lot of times, but he cared. He was also a great listener. I mustered enough courage to look him in the eye while I spoke, and told him everything from drawing Jesse to slamming my locker. Throughout the time it took to tell him what happened, he just nodded and kept silent, only interrupting to ask a question or two to clarify what I told him.

"So what do you think?" I was swinging our joined hands back and forth, waiting for the advice that I knew he would give.

"Maybe you're just seeing what you want to see when you look at Owen. You're seeing what everyone else sees. A jock, an attractive, popular guy. Appearances can be deceiving, Taylor. Remember that."

I nodded and looked at my feet, letting him lead me into the parking lot where our friends would be waiting. When we saw them, we untangled our hands and walked at our own paces. Derek, striding forward, and me following a few feet behind.

Everyone was leaning on Derek's car, propped up as close to the seat they wanted as they could get from outside. I smiled, a cacophony of greetings sounding as we drew closer to the group. My eyes drifted over our group. Aaron Thomas, sneak. David Corwin, our court jester. Satier Madsen, cool and detatched. Mason Fuller, teddy bear. Holly Fuller, my best gal pal. Jesse Sawyer, jittery and anxious. Then there was me. The tomboy. Evening us all out, was Derek Samson. He was the leader, and we all looked up to him. We'd grown up together, depended on eachother. He supported everyone in everything.

I went to stand by Jesse, but Derek grabbed my arm above the elbow, pulling me back to him. "I think you need to talk to someone else right now."

Turning around, I wrinkled my brow in confusion, looking at Derek questioningly. He tilted his head, indicating someone in that direction. I looked over, and saw Owen watching me, his lips drawn into an angry line. I gulped. "Um...M-maybe later?"

Derek put a hand on the small of my back, urging me forward. "Wave if you have a ride."

I stumbled in the general direction of Owen, my fingernails making red crescents in my palm. When I reached him, I shuffled my feet and looked at his chest, not ready to look him in the eye. He put a hand under my chin and tilted my face up until I looked him in the eyes. They looked like storm clouds, angry and brooding.

"Is that your boyfriend?"

"Who?"

He scowled at me, and I felt his anger like a living thing, thickening the air. "That guy. Brown hair, a little taller than me. You were holding hands."

"Derek? No! God, no. We're just friends. We were just talking," He eyed me skeptically. "Why do you ask?"

He shrugged, but it was jerky and angry. "Just wondering."

I looked at him. He sighed and just like that all the anger leaked out of him. His eyes cleared, like the sun coming out after the rain, brighter, happier. His body loosened up, became more relaxed. My breath eased out slowly. I relaxed as well, feeling the mood lighten. We looked at eachother and smiled. He finally looked a little shy, opening his mouth as if to say something, closing it before a word escaped. He coughed once, then looked me in the eyes, "Can I give you a ride?"

"I have a ride." I looked back behind me, at my friends. At my world. At the differences between us. I looked back at him, and he nodded, deflated.

"Yeah, I know. But could you ride with me, maybe?"

"Why?"

"Why not?"

I glared, but he just smiled at me. I found myself grinning back. Damn it. "Alright, but if I do, you have to ride with us tomorrow."

His smile faltered, but he nodded. "Deal."

He opened the passenger door for me, and I climbed into the car. I watched him walk around to his side and get in, hearing the engine rumble as it started up. He looked over at me, and I forgot about him never speaking to me. I forgot about him taking my hat and my book and making fun of me and Jesse. He leaned toward me and I forgot to wave to Derek, to let him know I was riding with someone else today. His lips brushed mine, and I just forgot everything. I let him drive me away, and I felt lighter, less weighed down. I just let myself forget it all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Riley Andersen**

My heart pounded. Adrenaline pumped through my veins. Basketball practice was over, so why was I still like this? Because Andreas Akrietes has a huge stick wedged up his ass.

"You're a ball hog. You don't pass to anyone at all." He pushed me.

"Sure, I do. I just don't pass it to you." I smiled at him. Just keep cool. Don't let him get to you.

His eyes darkened from brown to black, he shoved me. I stumbled back and he pushed me again, sending me into a wall. I growled and went at him, but scrawny arms pushed at my chest, holding me back. I looked over to see Adam Saunders, one of my best friends, holding me back. I relaxed slightly, smiled crookedly. He thumped my shoulder, "Calm down, huh?"

I loosened up and he smiled. I sagged and let out a deep breath. Andreas drawled, "Yeah, listen to scarecrow, Andersen."

I snarled and tackled Andreas. I was straddling his waist, punching his face over and over. My fists felt hot. All I saw was red, bright and liquid. On my hands, on his face, on the floor. A hand grabbed the back of my neck and squeezed painfully. I ignored it, my arms moving in what seemed an endless cycle, right, left, right, left, impact after impact. Then the hand hauled me back by the scruff of my neck, sending me flying back. Arms went around me from behind, holding me loosely but firmly. A voice whispered at my back. "That's enough, Tyson."

My chest was rising and falling rapidly. I was panting. My hands had changed, my fingers long and clawed. I made fists to hide them as I willed them back to a normal shape. Adam kept talking to me, calming me down from my red wave of rage. I started listening to him after a few seconds, the soothing words starting to make sense.

"It's alright, big guy. Let it go. It's okay. Calm down."

I hunched into myself, breathing hard for a few seconds, then letting a long sigh of breath out. I listened to Adam's soft words. I calmed. Andreas was up, bleeding from his nose, mouth, face, still going at me. I tried to push Adam to the side, but someone else got in the way. Will Stone. He's six foot five, stocky, chiseled down to a rock of muscle. Also another best friend. He just stood there, not saying a word. Will doesn't need to say anything. Andreas backed off, muttering curses and touching his face. I went to pull away, and Adam tightened his arms, keeping me there. Adam is lean, skinny as hell but strong. He's one of the best players on the team, and he isn't a scarecrow. He's not noticably muscular though. I could feel his muscles working though, keeping me still. Cording and flexing, not letting me go, not letting me hurt Andreas again. He knew I wouldn't make him get off me. Will turned on me,

"That's enough, Tyson." Tyson. My nickname. I sagged and Will moved faster than you'd think a guy his size could, catching me up. He pulled me up and put my arm over his shoulders, Adam getting my other side. I leaned on them, and they took me out of the locker room. Took me away from the gym, out into the empty hallway. It would be around five or six. Owen hadn't been at practice.

"I wonder where Owen is." I said this softly, not meaning it, not feeling it. I was like I always was after I let my anger get the best of me. Numb. Detatched. I slid my arm off Will, keeping the other around Adam and curling it around his neck.

He put an arm around me, and I chucked him under the chin, a corner of my mouth tilted up to the side. "You good, Saunders?"

Adam smiled at me and nodded, "Yeah, Andersen. I'm good."

Will watched us with a smile wavering over his lips, not saying anything. I slipped my arm off Adam, looking the other way to hide the flush creeping up my neck. Will punched my arm and caught my eye. He knew. He always knew everything. I scrunched up my face and punched him back. He grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me into a headlock, messing my hair. Then I heard him.

"Adam," The voice was deep, soft. I froze, and Will let me go. I watched as Jack joined our group, sliding an arm around Adam's waist and kissing his cheek. He looked up and smiled at us, "What's up, guys?"

Adam blushed and ruffled Jack's hair, pushing him off good naturedly. Jack just smiled at him. He looked back at us, brown eyes laughing. I nodded. Will did the same. I forced myself to smile, and Adam piped up, "So we going or what?"

I laughed, a soft strangled sound and watched Jack take Adam's hand, tugging him along as we started walking. I turned and felt Will toss a thick arm around my shoulders. "Don't worry about it, Tyson." He said this so softly, I thought I'd just heard something. But I looked up, and soft golden eyes looked back. He kept his mouth shut, but I knew I'd heard him right.

Looking at the floor, I nodded. When I looked up, I watched Jack and Adam laughing ahead of us, following silently with Will.

We made our way to the parking lot. There were only a few cars left, and everyone turned to Will's black mustang. His parents we're big shot lawyers and constantly off on business or vacation, leaving behind a bank account that was constantly growing for Will. He barely ever touched the money, except to pay for house maintenance, because it wasn't his responsibility to take care of their stuff. He worked and saved his own money, paying for his own groceries, bills, whatever.

Will unlocked the car, and I walked around to the passenger side, crawling into the seat and sighing. I heard Adam and Jack climb into the backseat, Will dropping into the drivers seat next to me. He started the engine and drove out of the parking lot, onto the road and away. We stopped at a light a few minutes later, and all I heard was soft laughter and kissing from the backseat. God damn it.

We were listening to the radio, and _My Own Worst Enemy _came on when the light flashed green. I cranked up the volume and started screaming the words,

"_Can we forget about the things I said when I was drunk? I didn't mean to call you that. I can't remember what was said or what you threw at me, please tell me! Please tell me why my car is in the front yard, and I'm sleepin' with my clothes on, I came in through the window last night, and you're gone._"

Will and Adam joined in, "_It's no surprise to me, I am my own worst enemy, 'cuz every now and then I kick the living shit outta me. The smoke alarm is goin' off and there's a cigarette still burnin'! Please tell me why my car is in the front yard, and I'm sleepin with my clothes on, I came in through the window last night, and you're gone," _I drummed my hands on the dashboard, bobbing my head to the beat, Adam leaning over my chair and screaming in my ear,_ "Please tell me why my car is in the front yard, and I'm sleepin' with my clothes on, I came in through the window last night. It's no surprise to me, I am my own worst enemy, 'cuz every now and then I kick the living shit outta me. Can we forget about the things I said when I was drunk? I didn't mean to call you that."_

It ended and we all grinned, laughing and relaxing together. Jack piped up, "Who sings that? That's an awesome song."

I looked into the rearview mirror at him, "Lit. _My Own Worst Enemy._ Great band."

"I noticed." He grinned at me. The guy wasn't that bad, I was just a jealous piece of shit. It made being nice hard.

"Yeah." I forced a smile and looked ahead, watching the car infront of us. Squinting, I leaned forward, looking more intently. "Don't those guys go to our school?"

Will peered ahead, narrowing his eyes. "Yeah. Soccer team, I think."

We ended up at yet another light, the car infront pulling off the road into the Mobil station on the corner. We all watched quietly as three guys climbed out. Adam sucked in his breath, "Ooh, the one with the longer brown hair is _hot_."

"What was that?" I watched in the rearview mirror as Jack slung a posessive arm around Adam, pulling him back from the window and against his chest, kissing at his neck. Adam settled against Jack, leaning his head back on his shoulder and kissing his cheek.

Adam smiled innocently, "Nothin'."

"Good."

I growled under my breath and went back to watching the soccer guys. None of them looked overly familiar. My gaze drifted over the gas station, not really looking for anyone in particular. Then a car pulled up next to us. A flash of rust-colored hair, a deep laugh. Looking over I saw Owen, who'd missed basketball practice. Owen who never missed practices for anything, who was walking around healthy and fine, talking animatedly to someone next to him. Leaning forward in my seat, twisting my head back and forth, I finally saw who was next to him. That girl from lab. Terry? Tina? Whatever. Owen didn't even notice us. I smacked Will's arm, pointing out my window. He looked passed me and seeing Owen, went to honk the horn. I smacked him again, "Shut up, stupid! Look at who he's with."

Will craned his neck, looking for whoever I was talking about. He stopped moving his head when he saw her, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Taylor?"

"I thought her name was Terry."

"It's Taylor." His voice was clipped and I knew he didn't want to hear anymore arguing about Terry/Taylor's name. Fine by me. I didn't really care.

"What's Owen doing out? With someone? He missed practice."

"Looks like he skipped practice. Intentionally. Don't worry about it, Tyson. You can get on his case if it happens again." Will winked at me and thumped my shoulder. I just shook my head. Like I would ever get on Owen's case? He was our Alpha; Our pack leader. He protected and watched over us. And he didn't owe us an explanation for missing practice. Not that that would stop me from asking. He might be my Alpha, but he was my friend first.

The light had probably changed twice by now; Luckily no one had been behind us. Now someone was, and they were leaning on their horn, screaming obscenities. Will drove on after flipping him the bird, everyone quiet for a few minutes. Then I turned the radio back up, and we sang the words to the songs we knew and made up words for the ones we didn't.


	5. Chapter 5

**Derek Samson**

I looked in my visor at a light. I only had Jesse and David left to drop off. They were pushing eachother back and forth good naturedly, getting rougher by the minute. "Hey, cool it back there, huh?"

"Yes, mommy. You take such good care of us, mommy. We love you, mommy." Jesse's eyes were widened in mock innocence. I smiled, David laughed.

Jesse looked over at David and forced him down on the seat, holding him there and making kissy faces at him. I was about to tell Jesse to back off, but David smirked at him and said, "Get your goodies somewhere else J, I'm straight."

"Unfortunately." Sighing exaggeratedly, Jesse sat up, David following suit. I turned my attention back to driving.

Jesse leaned forward inbetween the front seats, batting his eyelashes at me. "How 'bout you, Derry?"

I glanced at him briefly, "Come on, man. I'm driving."

"Are you saying my sexiness is getting to you? I didn't know I was..." He slid a hand along my thigh. "...Distracting you," I smirked, trying not to laugh. Then I turned and grabbed the back of Jesse's head, pulling him forward and giving him a smack on the lips before tossing him into the backseat. "Wooooh! Derek's a sexy beast! I love you now."

I pulled up into the driveway of a brick one story ranch style house, unlocking the doors. "See you tonight, J. Try to stay outta trouble 'til then, huh?"

"Bye, mom. Bye, YOU OOFTA SEXY MONSTER!" Jesse grabbed David's straight brown hair, licked his cheek, then hopped out of the car and bounced up his walkway. He waved before opening his front door, stepping inside, and closing it behind him.

I turned and looked back at David, quirking an eyebrow. "Oofta?"

He looked at me soberly, nodding his head a bit. "Oofta."

I looked back at him just as solemnly, nodding once. "Oofta."

It was quiet for a few minutes, just the humming of the car engine and the wind blowing gently into the windows. I snorted and we both burst out laughing. I pulled back out onto the street and waited for David to clamber into the passenger seat. He settled himseld down and lounged comfortably. I looked at him. He looked at me innocently."What?"

"You know what."

He sighed and put his seatbelt on, and I started driving away from Jesse's house. It was quiet in the car now, no Jesse to make us laugh or break the silence. But it was comfortable. David and I were like that together. We could enjoy a ride without talking and listening to the radio.

After a few minutes, I noticed David gnawing on his hand. "David, stop biting your nails." His knees were bobbing up and down. He took his left hand out of his mouth and replaced it with his right, chewing up the other hand. He wasn't talking. We were getting closer to his house, and a familiar ball of anger gathered in my stomach, a familiar feeling of protection ran through me. Often I or another of the gang found David, or were called to come pick him up from some random street because he had to get out of the house. His dad was a New York cop, a drunk, and David was an outlet for his frustration. His mom was always too high to give a shit, and if she did take an interest, it would be against David. David could fight with the best of them, but he never hit his dad back. He took it all. I always wondered why, but I guess when the person you're supposed to trust and take care of you betrays you, you don't know what to do.

I slowed the car down to a crawl infront of David's house. In the quiet, we could hear screaming coming from the house. David's eyes were haunted, looking from me to the house. I grabbed his shoulder, "You can just stay with me, David. You know I've got the space at my house."

He shook his head, swallowed, "No, I'm good." His voice was soft. David Corwin's voice was never soft; He was confident in himself. That is, until he came home. I always dropped him off last, so he wouldn't be embarassed infront of our friends. They wouldn't care, hell, they would feel sorry for him, but it's the principle of the matter. David didn't want anyone's pity. So I watched him slip out of the car, closing the door behind him. His back was straight as he trooped across the grass, and I thought that no matter how hurt and scared he was, he was brave.

When he reached the door, he fumbled for his keys. I'd watch him get in. I would wait outside for a few minutes before leaving, too, in case something happened. Because everytime I left him here and something happened, I felt like it was my fault. Like I wasn't protecting him like I should. So when the door opened, I watched him disappear inside, and a voice in the back of my head was saying "Don't go in there!" like it was a horror movie and the monster was hiding inside. In a way, I guess I was right. There was a monster hiding inside, but not the kind we usually hear about. My knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and I flexed my fingers, loosening my grip. It wouldn't help anyone to be angry.

I started driving away, excepting that today was going to be okay, when I heard shouting and a door slamming behind me. I looked into my visor, and it was to see David, running full out down the block, his dad behind him. I threw the car in reverse, opening the passenger side door. I held it open as I stopped and put the car into drive, my foot on the break only long enough for David to jump in and slam the door closed. Then the tires squealed, and we were gone. I didn't look at David, because if I did I knew I'd turn around and beat the shit out of his father. I just drove.

A little more than ten minutes later, we were at my place. I'd inherited my house and a well endowed trust fund the summer before, when my grandparents, mother, and father died in a car accident. I never thought about them. Don't get me wrong, I loved them to death. But I couldn't remember them. If I did, I'd stop, and I'd remember all the school plays they showed up to and playing football in the backyard with my dad or learning how to cook on weekends with my mom, and I would freeze. So I forgot, and I never thought about them, or their funeral, or my memories of them, and life went on.

It was two floors, tan with brown shutters and an oak door. I parked infront of the house and got out of the car, walking around onto the sidewalk and waiting for David. He stepped out and I pressed the lock button on my car keys, a loud beep from the car breaking the silence. David followed me up the four stairs to my doorway, waiting for me to unlock the door before walking in and going straight to the dark living room.

I locked the door and followed him. The sun was still up, and the rays coming in through the windows illuminated him enough for me to see a blossoming bruise on the side of his face and a fat lip. Some blood was smeared by his chin and mouth. He saw me looking at him and hung his head, hiding and ashamed. I walked over and sat next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders. I leaned my head against his, pulling him tighter against me in a half hug. "It's alright, David. Don't worry, you're alright now. I'm here with you."

I felt him shake and wished I could take his pain away, even if it was just for a few minutes. David was one of those people who was never reduced to a pitiful mess or hiding in a corner while everyone else ran off to fight. He was confident and in the front line, always helping someone out who needed it or standing up for the under dog. He didn't deserve this. No one deserved this.

"He was waiting for me." I looked at David's profile, staring straight ahead. His eyes were shiny and he swallowed, trying not to cry. I was surprised he had said anything. He usually didn't want to talk about his home life at all. Other times, like now, if he said something about it, he wanted to talk about it. I didn't want to relive his horror with him; I didn't want to know what happened to David behind closed doors. But if he had to live through it, I could talk about it. I _would _talk about it.

"What happened?"

And he told me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Owen Weiller**

"So, are you going to the party tonight?" I looked over at Taylor briefly, watching the back of her head as she stared out the window and I browsed for a parking spot.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw her look at me, "I think so."

I smiled to myself. "I'll take you." I pulled into an empty spot between two other cars and turned off the engine. There was a guy around our age in the car next to us on her side. I looked at Taylor. Her eyes were narrowed at me and without a word she got out and slammed her door. I watched the guy next to her "conveniently" get out of his car and mash himself up against her. I growled and got out.

"Hey, there. I haven't seen you around here before. I thought I knew all the cute girls."

I don't remember actually moving from my side to hers, but a few seconds later I was there. And I was pissed. Everything in me screamed to beat the shit out of him. Instead I watched as she batter her eyes at him, "You know a lot of cute girls?"

I wound my arms around her from behind and pulled her back against me hard. I growled once more, the sound vibrating through me and trickling out of my throat. I glared at the boy and puffed out my chest, my eyes telling him to back off and that she was already taken. He stumbled away and I smirked.

Taylor elbowed me in the gut, and I grunted before adjusting my arms to hold hers at her sides. She started squirming and she was pressed up against me just so that I wasn't complaining. When she realized just how happy I was, she froze. I heard her gulp and nuzzled her neck under her ear. It was time to teach this pup a lesson.

I felt her blood pumping and pounding under my lips and kissed the spot gently. Holding her in place I explored further, my mouth finding the vein in her neck that kept her alive. My teeth held that vein, her life, but didn't break the skin. I growled and felt her tremble against me. She whined and tried to tuck her chin down, but the position of my head and my hold on her prevented that. I growled and bit down harder. She whimpered and finally leaned her head back against my shoulder, saying without words that I was in charge and we played by my rules.

I released her and took her hand. I ignored her glare and let her lead the way as she charged forward, dragging me along behind her to the movie theater. We stopped infront of the ticket window, browsing the list of movies.

"_What's Under Your Bed_?" She looked at me as she asked.

I curled my lip, "That sounds fruity."

"Yeah, but it's either that or _Toothfairy._"

"You're not even going to try and convince me to see _Crying Roses?"_

"I'm not that desperate for a movie." I laughed and watched her smile. I decided she has a nice smile, and I wanted to see it as much as I could.

I took her hand and stroked the back of it with my thumb as I went up to the window. "Two adults for _What's Under Your bed_, please."

"That's twenty two-fifty." I pulled out my wallet and handed over the money. The day I go to see a movie and pay less than ten dollars cows will shit gold. It ain't gonna happen.

We went to the snack bar and got popcorn and soda, then headed into the movie. The room they were showing it in was pretty empty, ten or so people littered around the rows and rows of chairs. Without hesitation i went for a back row, leading Taylor with me. It was tempting to find a dark corner, but I knew my limits- and hers.

I walked into the middle of a backrow, waiting for her. Once she chose a seat I settled into the one next to her, grabbing a handful of popcorn and munching down. She snorted and ate some popcorn, too. The movie started a few minutes later, and I barely paid any attention to it. I was very aware of Taylor sitting next to me, her forearm pressed against mine on the rests. I slid my arm along her shoulders, not bothering to hide the movement. If she didn't want me to touch her, whether I went about it awkwardly or not, she would push me away. This was so much simpler.

She didn't push me off, but she didn't lean towards me either. I sighed and smiled to myself. She was going to be a challenge; I would have to except that. Hell, who was I fooling? I loved a good challenge.

I smiled at this new excursion, finally looking at the movie. It was alright, not the best or the worst thing I've ever seen. There was a couple infront of us, very affectionate and very loud. Then, apparantly, she was complaining about something. Then they argued. Then they made up and slobbered all over eachother, getting louder by the second. I heard a growl, thought it was me, then turned to see a frustrated Taylor watching the sideshow infront of us.

Hefting up my bucket of popcorn, I quirked an eyebrow at her. She smirked evilly and picked hers up as well. Simultaneously we stood and dumped the popcorn on them. The girl screamed and the guy shouted, yelling and cursing at Taylor and I. By the time they were done shouting and tried to find out who assaulted them, we were leaving our aisle. They called after us, and we laughed, holding hands and running from the theater.

When we got outside it was drizzling little pittering pattering drops. Slowly, you could hear it in the distance getting louder and louder, and then the downpour was on us. The rain was hard and cold, driving mercilessly through our clothes like teeth. Taylor laughed out loud, spreading her arms and throwing her head back. I stood still, watching what I could see of her through the thick maze of falling water. It should have been like trying to see through Niagara Falls, but it wasn't. I could see her almost perfectly. Her clothes clung to her, her hair was matted to her face and shoulders. She was beautiful.

Slowly she turned to me, as if she could feel me watching her. My gaze was so intense she probably could have. Her arms drooped to her sides and she slowly walked toward me, not stopping until she was infront of me. I looked down at her. Her smiled had vanished, and she seemed anxious, waiting for something. I slid my fingers along her cheeks, feeling her soft skin. I cupped her head, leaning down closer. Our breath steamed in the air, mixing, mingling.

"Owen," She whispered my name, the sound almost drowned out by the downpour.

"Don't run from me this time, Taylor," I growled softly, but my words were more of a plea than a command. I couldn't tolerate her running away again. I jsut knew I wanted her here with me, atleast for right now. I just wanted the two of us, together, for as long as she would stay.

"I won't." She said this strogner, as if to herself more than me. I smiled softly, leaning my forehead against hers.

I kissed her eyelids, then her cheeks and her cute little nose. I trailed kisses over the delicate bones of her face, and then I kissed her lips.

Outside a movie that sucked, in the middle of the pouring rain, the sound of water crashing onto the pavement a dull roar in my ears, I kissed Taylor Jameson. I kissed her, and everything stopped. She kissed me back, and you know what?

It was nice.


End file.
